Lou Vincent in action for New Zealand during the 2007 World Cup. Photograph: Simon Baker/Reuters

The decision made by the England and Wales Cricket Board to charge the former New Zealand and Sussex batsman Lou Vincent and his erstwhile county team-mate Naved Arif with match-fixing is one born out of frustration.

Although not a criminal prosecution, both players, who in total have 20 charges against them, could receive lifetime bans from the game, something that would hold good in all countries. Given that Vincent has retired and Arif is not believed currently to be playing professionally, the process might be seen as immaterial, with little to prove given that Vincent has already admitted fixing a match in one of the county one-day competitions three years ago. But at least it is a start, a demonstration of willingness that appears to be missing from the Anti-Corruption and Security Unit, which is supposed to be the watchdog of the International Cricket Council.

Certainly there has been considerable disquiet within the ICC that the ACSU has cost a considerable amount of money to resource (upwards of £25m according to some estimates) and, although not a law enforcement agency and there is no means of quantifying the deterrent effect it might have, it has achieved nothing of obvious consequence. The recent leaking, believed to be by a source associated with the ACSU, of an investigation document containing testimony from the current New Zealand captain Brendon McCullum (not under investigation himself), implicating but not naming another, appears to have been an ill-advised attempt at self-justification in the face of public scepticism.

The number of lines of inquiry that the ACSU claims it has pursued – 281 to be precise – is, given the fact that not one single conviction has been brought in any country as a result, more a testament to its toothlessness, not helped by the fact that Sussex’s match against Kent, which Vincent admits fixing, was given a clean bill of health by the ACSU investigation.

In fact, the only convictions have come as a result of a newspaper sting and whistle-blowing, which is an important element but ought not to be the exclusive avenue.

The ACSU is currently having its role reviewed at ICC level, and there could well be some collateral damage within the organisation as a result, not least Sir Ronnie Flanagan, former head of constabulary in Northern Ireland, who has chaired the ACSU since 2010, and the unit head YP Singh. Flanagan has a lucrative role advising the Abu Dhabi government on policing issues and the restructuring of the unit will surely demand a full-time commitment from its head. The lack of convictions is grist to the mill.

Meanwhile, enough has been enough for the ECB. The game is being done immense harm by the perception that all is not as it seems, and the ECB chairman, Giles Clarke, is keen to try to get legislation here to make it a criminal offence to conspire to deprive the public of a fair contest.

Furthermore, the fact that Vincent will be charged will go some way to reinforcing the idea that corruption within the game is not just an Asian problem, even if the root cause stems from the massive illegal betting industry there. Should there be a conviction in relation to the 40-over match between Sussex and Kent, it will become the first county game proven to have been fixed.

Regaining public trust in all they see will be no easy thing, however. Cricket’s propensity for anomalies is manifest in almost any game. Spot-fixing, or spread betting, is relatively simple to achieve given this. A good few years ago, when spread betting on cricket was in its infancy, I arrived for a one-day final at Lord’s to be greeted by an enthusiastic friend who told me of the spread on the timing of the first wide of the match. It was, he said, between 24 deliveries and 26 and what did I think. It was a no-brainer: the bowler who would send down the opening over almost always sent his loosener legside, and exacerbated by the Lord’s slope, it seemed to be a certainty that a wide would come sooner rather than later, probably, as I told him, first ball.

He placed a sizeable bet on that basis. Sure enough, first ball went down the legside, the umpire signalled wide and my friend had made some nice pocket money. The point of this is not to suggest malpractice (which unequivocally I could say it was not) but to highlight the possibilities: on the one hand, the player might have seen the odds, thought no one would notice (indeed I at least expected it), and piled in; or alternatively my friend could have approached him and offered a deal. It really could be that easy. Where was the risk? Where indeed was the harm?

The game deserves a reason to believe once more and at least the charging of Vincent and Arif would be a step in that direction.

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